


Sacrifice and Charity

by FluffySherlollyFan119



Series: Baker Street Confections [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlolly, F/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4516311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffySherlollyFan119/pseuds/FluffySherlollyFan119
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon asked: Sherlolly prompt: Molly cutting her hair to support the neighbour’s kid through cancer and to make a nice wig for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice and Charity

When Molly finally relented and moved into Baker Street with Sherlock she had prayed for nice neighbours because her last neighbours were pigs. So she was pleasantly surprised when, a day after moving in, the married gay couple next door (Mrs. Turner’s lodgers, as she was to later learn from Mrs. Hudson) and their daughter had come over with an orange cake to welcome her to the neighbourhood. Thankfully, Sherlock was out on a case at that time and couldn’t embarrass her or worse, make the neighbours hate them.

She invited them up to the living room and had made tea and proffered her own confections of sugar biscuits and cupcakes. The adults chatted while the little girl sat there quietly, wondering silently if she could get away with taking a fourth biscuit. Molly had seen her slight looks and little pouts and briefly remembered how much she used to hate it when her parents used to take her places where there weren’t any other children simply because no one talked to her.

She grabbed the plate and said “Well you haven’t said much down there, sweetie. Do you want another biscuit?”

The little girl smiled at all the confections on the plate, looked up at Molly shyly and nodded.

“Do you want to tell me your name?” She asked practically kneeling on the floor to go down to her level.

“Elizabeth.” She whispered, half hiding behind one of her dads.

“Well, that is a lovely name. Can I tell you a secret? That’s my middle name too.” She giggled at the little girl.

“Really?” Elizabeth asked surprised. She started to come out from her hiding spot and was now looking Molly straight in the eyes, her shyness gone away at the smallest hint of similarity between her and the new neighbour-lady.

“Mhm.” Molly nodded “My name is Molly Elizabeth Hooper.”

“I like your name, Molly.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“You’re pretty, you have pretty hair.” The girl said tugging on a loose curl framing Molly’s face.

“You have pretty hair too.” Molly complimented, touching the girl’s chestnut-red curls that were so similar to hers. It was a very common colour Molly noted, especially on little girls who had yet to start messing about with hair dyes. She’d always preferred her natural colour over anything that could come out of a bottle.

The sweet meeting didn’t last long after Molly’s interaction with the girl ended.

//////

**6 Months Later.**

Sherlock burst into the lab at St. Bart’s as pompously as he usually did, Belstaff billowing behind him.

“Molly.” He called. “A pair of bodies has just come in, I need access.”

“No.”

“What? Why not?” Sherlock asked stupefied.

“Because I have other plans today, I promised Mary I would volunteer on the children’s ward.”

“But please.” Sherlock whined. She really didn’t see why she had volunteered when she was taking care of an overgrown child 24/7. At least he was learning to say please.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock but I promised. The sick kids need me a lot more than you do right now.”

“But there’s a murderer on the loose, is it really going to make them feel better if there’s a murderer on the loose.”

“Actually, yes it will because frankly they don’t care about your murderer.”

“Well then, I don’t care about them.” Sherlock huffed, crossing his arms as he flopped onto a stool.

“Sherlock! That’s a horrible thing to say, they’re sick children, really sick children like cancer and that sort of thing.” Molly admonished.

“Can’t you go later, after you’ve helped me with the bodies?”

“No, Sherlock, I’m sorry, nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“Nothing?” Sherlock challenged.

“Nothing.” She replied sternly.

“Not even all the sweet ways I would have you on your desk, and your chair, and on the floor, and up against the door… I know you’d like that last one especially.” He sauntered over to her, stroked her jawline with the back of his index finger. “I’ve seen you dreaming about it.” He whispered in her ear, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifting her face to meet his eyes. She smiled weakly at him.

“No. not even that, Sherlock.” She said with all seriousness every trace of arousal leaving her face. “Though I give you credit for trying, and you are right about the door bit.” She laughed. “I’ll see you later. Try not to blow up the lab while I’m gone.”

“Fine.” Sherlock pouted but he kissed her on the lips all the same before letting go of her chin and allowing her to leave.

Up in the children’s ward Molly was having a wonderful time. Well, as wonderful a time as anyone can have when they’re surrounded by terminally ill children. In the last three hours she had read stories, played board games, watched TV, talked, and ran after the children in the ward. She had mostly spent the day visiting the children in the individual rooms but was now making her way to the general play room.

There were pockets of children around the room, all doing something different and she was about to sit down with the group that had started watching _The Little Mermaid_ when she saw a girl colouring at a table by herself. She thought she recognised the bobbing head and went to sit next to her instead.

“Hello there.” She said gently.

The little girl looked up and her sweet face lit up as she recognised Molly. “Molly Elizabeth Hooper.” She said and threw her arms around the doctor.

“Elizabeth! I thought I recognised you.” She hugged the enthusiastic girl back. “What are you doing here?” She asked hoping she would tell her that one of her dads was a doctor. Molly knew that doctors and nurses who worked on this ward frequently allowed their children to play with the in-patients knowing it made both parties feel better. But Elizabeth’s face turned sad all of a sudden. “The doctors say there’s something wrong with me, and that I’m going to need to stay here for a while until I get better.” Elizabeth said mournfully. It sounded like she had repeated that same exact sentence a million times over.

“Do you know what’s wrong with you?” Molly asked curiously.

“Not really. The doctor explained it to papa and daddy but it’s all confusing.”

“I know, sweetie. Did he use big words?” Molly asked trying to make her feel better.

“Yes. Are you a doctor Molly?” Elizabeth asked.

Molly nodded “Yes I am. Although I’m a different kind of doctor to the ones helping make you and these other children better.”

“What kind?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“Well the kind who sees why people died, and those lots of lovely experiments that help the doctors see what’s wrong with you.” She explained briefly.

“Like when they took all that blood from me and said I had to do a test, only I didn’t study?”

“Yes just like that but you don’t need to study for that kind of test.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with me, Dr Molly?”

“No, sweetie I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Daddy said I might lose my hair, like that boy over there.” She whispered as she pointed to another patient watching the television. “Only I don’t want to. I like my hair. It’s pretty.” She said with tears in her eyes.

Molly shushed Elizabeth who was now practically seated in her lap. “Tell you what,” She said “Why don’t I go find your doctor and ask him what’s wrong with you and then I can explain it in a way you’ll understand, huh?”

“Okay.” Elizabeth seemed to perk up at that. She wasn’t happy per say, but she liked the idea of being able to understand what was going on Molly supposed.

After a while trying to track down the doctor and convince him to tell her what Elizabeth’s diagnosis was, she returned with what she thought was not so bad news.

“Hey sweetie.” Molly said as she sat back down next to Elizabeth who had now moved on to make a jigsaw puzzle.

“Dr. Molly. Do you know what’s wrong with me?” She asked seating herself in Molly’s lap comfortably.

“Actually I do, the doctor told me that you have something called leukaemia.” Molly explained, she got papers and crayons and explained all the ways in which this disease was going to affect Elizabeth, drawing out blood cells and everything else she was finding hard to understand, like why she had to lose her hair. Molly ended up spending way more time with her than any of the other volunteers and she really did have work to do but she couldn’t bear to leave Elizabeth, until finally it was time for her to go get her treatment.

Molly couldn’t help but feel that she had only made things worse for Elizabeth and not better as was the whole intention behind her volunteering in the first place. The short walk and lift ride from the children’s ward to the lab was muddled with her thinking up ways of how she could make Elizabeth feel better, short of taking away the leukaemia. When she entered the lab, Sherlock was still there, spinning on the same stool she’d left him.

“Molly.” He said when he spotted her coming in. “Finally, I’ve been waiting for hours, If I had known it would take you this long-” he started, trying to get up but failing because he’s gotten so dizzy from the spinning.

“Not now Sherlock.” She said holding a hand up and walking past him towards her office.

“What’s wrong, love?” Sherlock asked, sensing her distress her walked towards her and fell face first on the floor, when he looked up and saw she hadn’t even cracked a smile at his foolishness he was even more perturbed. He got up and held by the elbows looking down into her eyes.

“You know that couple that lives with Mrs. Turner. Roger and Steve?” When Sherlock nodded she continued. “Well they have a little girl, Elizabeth.” She explained.

“I know her, she calls me Mr. Holm, whenever she sees me because she can’t pronounce the ‘s’ right, she’s adorable what about her.”

“She’s got leukaemia.” Molly said with tears in her eyes. “It’s not bad the doctor said they got it at a very early stage and it’s very curable but… ugh… I just.” Molly tried to place the words and ended up wringing her hands for want of a better expression.

“Come here, love. There’s really nothing you can do about it.” Sherlock said as he hugged her. Sherlock picked up their things and took them both back home deciding that no work was going to be done with Molly in this state.

Molly spent the night researching things she actually could do for Elizabeth, ways that might cheer her up, things she should avoid. After she had read through medical articles and worked her way down to a couple of good blogs, Molly finally settled on joining a forum that dealt with this thing. She spent a good hour reading other people’s suggestions and writing out her own to problems that were completely beside hers and felt she could help. She like one user’s suggestion and set out on more research. By the time she went to bed Molly had a huge grin on her face again and a solid plan to carry out the next day. Thank god it was her day off.

//////

“What do you mean she said she can’t make it, I know for a fact that it’s her day off and she’s got nothing better to do.” Sherlock fumed to a tired Lestrade as he followed the detective into the morgue.

“How the hell am I supposed to know, she’s your girlfriend.” Lestrade shot back.

“Flatmate” Sherlock corrected. He hated the idea of Molly being his girl-anything.

“With benefits.” Lestrade prodded. “Whatever, point is she’s your whatever, you know what’s up with her and what she’s doing.”

“I’ll call her again.” Sherlock pressed the speed dial number that had been Molly’s since the day he met her, 4. He waited, tapping his foot as he heard the dialling tone. “What is the point of you?” He disgruntledly asked the phone as the line dropped.

“Look just play nice with the pathologist on duty now, you can make do without Molly for one day.” Lestrade offered.

Sherlock turned and looked at the red-haired boy who was jotting something down on his clipboard, because he was hardly more than a boy. Sherlock sighed and took a deep breath in surrender.

Five minutes later the pathologist ran into the adjoining office crying, Sherlock was walking back out of the lab and Lestrade was once again following him screaming profanities.

Back at Baker Street the only thing Sherlock felt capable of doing all day was playing the violin as he thought about where Molly might be. He knew she was safe because if she wasn’t he would have been contacted by now. He had seen here getting ready that morning to leave the flat and he distinctly remembered her asking him if he wanted her to pick anything up when she did the shopping. He had just started to wonder if he should call John and ask him to join in looking for her when he heard the front door downstairs slam shut, followed almost immediately by Molly’s distinct footsteps in her boots climbing up the stairs.

“Hi, Sherlock.” She greeted as she made her way through the living room door laden with shopping bags. Sherlock took the opportunity to deduce what she had been doing all day while she was distracted. Molly had her hair tucked neatly into a pink and grey knitted hat with matching mittens and scarf. She had on a grey Belstaff that Sherlock had bought for her a while ago because she liked his so much and black walking boots. Underneath the coat Sherlock could tell that she was wearing her favourite dark blue jeans and some kind of fitted top. She had a large black handbag on her left shoulder – the kind she used when she was running errands rather than going out for fun. From her walking and various movements as she put the groceries away he could tell that there were no injuries to her body.

The bags extending his deductions further. There were six paper bags of four different stores, three were filled with groceries, the other three with clothes a brief look into one of the bags showed a smaller paper bag belonging to a fifth establishment, lingerie ( _oh, lovely_ Sherlock thought) and there was one belonging to a sixth just barely visible in the handbag which was now resting on one of the kitchen chairs. Clearly Molly’s disappearance was due to the high street.

Sherlock’s eyes kept following Molly’s movements even after he had confirmed that she had not been hurt in any way. The followed her around the kitchen table and back out into the living area where she stopped behind the front door to take off her coat, followed swiftly by her gloves which she put in the right pocket and the scarf which she put in the left. She stopped to take a breath and suddenly Sherlock could sense that she was nervous, he was curious as to what her made her suddenly change her demeanour so he was looking more intently as she lifted her arms and took off her hat to release her bob.

Sherlock’s mind backtracked and replayed the moment in his head before Molly could turn around and face him.

“What have you done to your hair?!” Sherlock spat.

“Don’t you like it?” Molly asked innocently playing with the ends which were now just past her earlobe.

“No!” Sherlock said taking a step forward. “I have told you on more than one occasion that I prefer your hair down, what would make you think I would like you with…. THAT!” he gestured to her new coif.

“I felt like a change.” She said.

“Lie.” He all but screamed as he looked her in the eyes.

“Okay, fine. I’ve always been a horrible liar.” Molly conceded. Sherlock nodded his agreement and she continued. “You know yesterday I told you about the neighbour’s daughter?” She asked and stopped for him to search through the previous days conversations. He nodded. “Well, after I explained to her what leukaemia was she was sad, obviously but not because she was sick, but because she was going to lose her hair.” She explained to Sherlock as she sat down on her red armchair. Sherlock took a seat opposite as she continued.

“Last night I was doing some research, trying to figure out how I could make her feel better and someone suggested that I get her a wig, possibly one made out of real hair.”

“So you thought you’d cut your hair and have it made into a wig because your colouring is so similar to hers.”

“Exactly.” Molly smiled.

“But did you really have to cut your hair?” Sherlock moaned.

“It’s called a sacrifice, Sherlock.”

“Does it make you feel better?” Sherlock asked, secretly hoping she’d answer no so he’d be proven right.

“Yes.” She answered immediately. “Look Sherlock, my hair will grow back, possibly sooner than either one of thinks.” She continued when he slumped in the chair and pouted. “But Elizabeth’s won’t grow back for a while yet, the least I can do is give her some of mine.”

//////

**3 Weeks Later.**

Sherlock and Molly were working silently side by side in the lab. Except Molly so silent after all. She kept tapping the end of her pen on her paper in quick, short continuous taps and looking up at the clock and sighing like it was doing her an injustice. After the 7th time she looked, Sherlock finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Is something wrong, Molly?”

“No.” She answered, semi-honestly.

“Are you waiting for something or someone?” he asked again, reading her.

She lodged her pen across the table out of annoyance and ran her hand through her hair, dislodging the small clip that was keeping the few short strands of her face. “I’m waiting for four o’clock and it’s like that darn thing won’t work.” She gestured at the clock, and I can’t concentrate.”

“It’s still noon, unless you want today to be a total waste, I suggest you get some work done in the next four hours.” Sherlock said as he set his eyes back to the microscope.

“I’ll go cut up, Mr. Henderson then.” She said morbidly. At least it would keep her hands and mind busy and she wouldn’t be able to see the stupid clock which seemed to be taunting her.

At four o’clock Sherlock got up from his workstation and went to the morgue. He found Molly cleaning her instruments and setting the body back into the drawer.

“It’s four.” Sherlock said, careful not to startle her with scalpel in hand.

“Already?” She asked surprised. “Thanks.” She smiled.

“Might I ask why you were waiting for four o’clock?” He turned back.

“That’s when visiting hours start, I want to go see Elizabeth.”

“Oh.” Sherlock nodded. He just stood there halfway out the door looking down at his shoes with a furrowed brow thinking.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Molly offered.

“Can I come with you? I have something that I think might cheer her up.”

“Oh.” Molly said surprised. “Yeah, the wig I ordered finally came today so I was going to give it to her.” But Sherlock was gone before she could finish.

When she came back into the lab she found Sherlock fidgeting with his coat and holding two bags; her handbag and a pink gift bag holding the wig. Obviously he’d gone into her office to retrieve them.

“What did you get her?” Molly asked in the lift.

“You’ll see.” Sherlock said with a smile as he tapped his right breast pocket. “I had some help from her nurses though.” He admitted as the doors opened onto their floor.

When they entered her room, Elizabeth’s face lit up with happiness.

“Dr Molly! Mr. Holm! You came to see me.” She squealed as she jumped up onto her knees. Molly smiled back although she was shocked to see that Elizabeth was already wearing a silk scarf around her head so early on in her treatment.

“Yes sweetie, and I’ve got a little present for you too.” Molly squeaked as she went to the side of her bed and showed her the pink bag. Sherlock followed her in silently not exactly sure how to proceed.

“Can I open it now?” Elizabeth asked Molly.

“Definitely.” Molly nodded as she pushed the bag further towards the girl. Elizabeth practically dove into the bag and pulled out the tissue paper that was surrounding the small box. The box was about the same size as a shoe box, white and unassuming. Elizabeth pulled the lid off to reveal the wig, wrapped in more tissue paper.

“Hair.” She announced pleasantly.

“Mhm. I got my hair cut and had it made into a wig for you.”

“It’s so pretty.” She cooed as she stroked the wig. “Daddy and papa bought me a lot of pretty scarves to wear until my hair grows back.” She motioned to the pink paisley material wrapped around her head.

“Yes that’s very pretty. But now you don’t have to wait for your hair to grow back. So when you want to wear a scarf, you’ve got pretty scarves and when you want to have pretty hair, you can wear your wig.” Molly explained.

“Thank you Dr Molly.” Elizabeth said as she threw her arms around the doctor’s neck.

Sherlock cleared his throat and looked at Molly asking her to allow him a moment. “Oh that’s right. Sherlock’s got a present for you too, sweetie.” Molly stepped back, letting Sherlock take her place next to the bed.

Sherlock silently reached into his right breast pocket and pulled out a card envelope with a small black mouse toy tied to the front. “Here you go, Elizabeth.” He almost whispered in his baritone voice. Molly couldn’t help but think that any person who had ever thought that Sherlock was horrible with children was very, very wrong.

“Hehe. It’s Mickey Mouse.” Elizabeth said when she saw the toy.

“There’s more inside, open it.” Sherlock said, stealing a wink at Molly.

“Paper?” Elizabeth asked confused when numerous leaves fell out of the card, which Molly noticed was apparently signed from the both of them, _with kisses?_

“Not just any paper.” Sherlock said taking a piece from her hand and unfolding it. “This paper is magic. Do you know why?” When Elizabeth shook her head in anticipation he continued. “Because this paper means that you and your daddy and your papa are going to go see the real Mickey Mouse.” He explained slowly as he handed her the unfolded piece back.

“What?” Molly asked confused.

“Disneyland?” The girl was now looking up at him with sparkling eyes so full of hope and joy after reading the paper.

“Yes. These papers mean you and your dads get to go on a plane, and go to Disneyland and meet Mickey and all your favourite princesses.” Sherlock explained to both Elizabeth and Molly.

The next sound that came out of the little girl’s mouth was a high pitched scream as she threw herself at Sherlock.

Mary came rushing into the girl’s room to see what was wrong with her. When she saw the little girl practically choking Sherlock she said “I take it you gave her your present then?”

“You knew?” Molly asked, still barely able to believe what her boyfriend had done for this little girl.

“Course I knew, I’m the one who told him.” Mary laughed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want me to fill your own prompts - as vague as you think they might be - go ahead and leave them in the comments below or in my ask box at tumblr: http://iamtheno1cumbercookie.tumblr.com/


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